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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781019">Under My Skin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanphancakes/pseuds/americanphancakes'>americanphancakes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Bathroom Sex, Dan howell has a pain kink, Dom/sub Play, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Mirror Sex, Pain, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, Tattoos, and discovers a few other possible kinks on this journey, please comment if i forgot any tags this is a pretty crazy one, vaseline as lube</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:08:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanphancakes/pseuds/americanphancakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan gets a tattoo. He really, really enjoys the experience. A lot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Under My Skin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/gifts">intoapuddle</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a very very belated birthday gift for intoapuddle. Thank you for the unique, sexy, and touching things you've written for the phandom! I hope your birthday was an excellent one. :D *runs and hides and nervously watches you read this from a distance*</p><p>Thanks so much to amy &amp; bri for being my very enthusiastic betas, i love ya to bits &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p><p>(this is un-britpicked. I figure i've overthought this fic enough already lol)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dan feels like he’s looked at a thousand tattoo artist Instagram accounts. His upper back is aching, and not in a fun way, before he finally finds the right artist. Phil Lester, it says. His black ink work? Flawless. Perfect. He’s done anime characters in perfect imitation of their official designs, he’s done mandala patterns like you’d find in one of those adult coloring books, and he’s done flowers and butterflies nearly as beautiful as their natural counterparts. His work looks dreamy, like something out of a fairy tale, and that’s exactly what Dan needs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t hurt that this Phil guy has a friendly, handsome sort of face that he wouldn’t mind looking at while a needle is being repeatedly jabbed into him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan does a very chicken-scratchy sketch of what he wants -- a book with seemingly arbitrary objects and symbols flying out of it, in celebration of Dan’s first published novel. He knows he wants the tattoo to start at the base of his neck and then cascade down over his left shoulder, onto his upper back and arm. And he knows he wants a lot of detail, but Phil will need to help with that -- Dan has learned from friends that tattoo lines widen &amp; lighten over time, and he doesn’t want to make something that’ll look like a big gray blob in a few years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows the tattoo will take hours. But it’ll be worth the pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He e-mails the shop with his terrible sketch, and sure enough, Phil replies with questions. They talk over the phone about the design &amp; Phil’s rates (high, but not unexpectedly so -- again, worth the pain), and Phil eventually sends a more polished-up looking sketch of the tattoo overlaid on a person-shaped outline. After a bit more back-and-forth and design negotiation, they have an agreement, and Dan has an appointment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately said appointment is about 2 months out. So Dan instagram-stalks him for the next seven weeks. Respectfully, of course. As an admirer of his work. Just to pass the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil is </span>
  <em>
    <span>incredibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> attractive in person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure, Phil already looked good on instagram, in the shots where he’s leaning over clients’ bodies, studying their skin and leaving marks on them with care. But in person he’s absolutely radiant. Dan feels his nerves spike, and he isn’t sure if it’s the adrenaline rush of an imminent tattoo, or if it’s anxiety because this very good-looking guy is going to be up close and personal with his body. As he sits, waiting for Phil to be ready for him, his knee bounces rapidly and he tries to pay attention to the mobile game he’s playing on his phone but he’s jumpy at every tiny sound of footsteps coming his way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan picks his head up and sees Phil smiling. He’s totally fucked, of course.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready for you. Come on back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan follows Phil behind a curtain to a large area with several chairs that look suspiciously like they belong to a goth dentist. There are private rooms along one wall, and a door to the toilets in the corner. Phil pats one of the goth dentist’s chairs twice, and Dan has a seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You signed the waiver up front when you came in, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dan exhales, trying not to think about how clear and deep and sexy Phil’s voice is in person compared to the phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t had any alcohol or medications over the last 24 hours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Dan says, popping his lips on the “p” and looking awkwardly around the room while Phil does something-or-other to prep this whole… tattoo thing. Dan doesn’t dare look but he knows it involves putting things on a metal tray which is unnerving enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan feels like his throat is going to close up from nerves and it only gets worse whenever he makes eye contact with Phil. He gulps, but drums on the edge of the seat between his legs, trying to look calm and collected. Like tattoos are </span>
  <em>
    <span>totally</span>
  </em>
  <span> something he gets all the time. No big deal. Just like getting his ears pierced again, but… several hundred thousand times.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D’you need to use the toilet before we get started?” Phil asks. “If you didn’t go right before you got here, you should go now.” He smiles a charming, knowing smirk while putting on a fresh pair of black nitrile gloves. He snaps them a bit at the wrist. Dan gulps again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” he says, “I uh… I went before I came over, so. I made sure I ate, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Phil says, beaming. “Nice to get a client who’s actually read all the instructions in the e-mail.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan feels a bit smug then. Like he’s the best client ever, and he’s making Phil proud. Meanwhile, Phil has this air of smartass wisdom that’s making Dan feel simultaneously at ease and nerve-wracked. The guy was already attractive enough before Dan met him in person, and the way he’s talking to him now is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> helping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, erm,” Dan said, suddenly remembering reality, “the e-mail said to mention it to you if I have low blood pressure? Is that gonna be a problem?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” Phil replies. “It won’t kill you to get a tattoo with low blood pressure. There’s risk of fainting, but if I know to watch out for it, I can help stop it from happening. And now I know to watch out for it.” Phil smiles reassuringly. “Usually the worst that happens here is people get a bit woozy and we have to stop for a few minutes. We have water and snacks here if you need them, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, cool, thank you.” Dan winces. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like you’re the only reason he has snacks. You fucking knob.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil then opens up a package with what is very obviously a fresh needle in it. Dan gulps, and Phil looks up at him with a smile and calm eyes while he prepares the tattoo gun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re nervous,” Phil says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could you tell?” Dan replies sarcastically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, the outline won’t hurt that bad,” Phil says. “It’s the shading you have to worry about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil then holds up a few pieces of unevenly cut-out paper. Dan sees that they’re drawn on, on both sides, and he recognizes it as three sections of his tattoo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanna start with your shoulder &amp; upper arm,” Phil says, “and then work up to the book near the base of your neck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not start with the book?” Dan asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is your first tattoo,” Phil explains. “The neck is a sensitive part of the body, so it’ll hurt. Normally I turn away anyone who wants a neck tattoo for their first because of it. So I reckon it’s best to ease you into that. If you feel like you need to stop before we get there, we can schedule you another session for later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nods, suddenly nervous about the pain again. Phil can see it, so he looks at Dan softly and puts a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” he says quietly in an attempt to calm Dan but having the opposite effect altogether. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. Ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nods, replaying Phil’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be gentle, I promise</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his mind over and over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright then,” Phil says. “Shirt off, let’s get started.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan peels off his t-shirt, leaving his entire torso bare and exposed in a room that’s far cooler than he expected. He knows his nipples are hard, and he’s too shy to ask if he should be embarrassed. He wads up his shirt and holds it awkwardly in his lap. He takes a few breaths.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing Phil does is shave Dan’s upper arm, Dan assumes it’s to make the area easier to work with. There isn’t much hair there -- or anywhere on Dan’s body, if he’s honest with himself -- but it’s probably enough to make tattooing difficult. Trusting Phil with a blade against his skin proves to be easy. Something about Phil’s entire manner is gentle and reassuring. Dan can’t deny, however, that the threat of sharpened metal makes it slightly dangerous, and more than a little erotic. He has to work to even out his breathing while Phil runs the blade along his arm, slowly and gently, wiping the skin behind the razor as he goes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once that’s done, Phil puts some rubbing alcohol on Dan’s skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t sting, does it?” he asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan shakes his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re allowed to talk,” Phil says with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. Um. No, no stinging.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Phil’s voice is low and breathy. Dan is glad his shirt is covering his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil then puts a drop of thick white fluid on the curve of Dan’s shoulder. Its appearance immediately puts Dan’s mind in the gutter, of course. Phil rubs the fluid onto Dan’s skin until it’s just a transparent shine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m gonna place the stencil now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil holds up one of the pieces of paper with the tattoo art on it and smiles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil presses the stencil onto Dan’s skin, and they can see exactly where the tattoo is going to go. He smiles a bit, excited. Phil’s art is absolutely gorgeous, and it’s going to be a permanent part of him. There’s something magical about this thing they’ve created together that he hadn’t felt when their exchanges were only via e-mail. This is real now. As Phil presses down, Dan can feel his skin slowly warm up under the heat of his hands, even through the gloves and paper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a moment, Phil slowly peels the paper back. The feeling of the paper reluctantly letting go of Dan’s arm is like a soft static buzz, or a light hairline tickle moving downward, making him tingle all over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s that look?” Phil asks. “This placement work for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan looks at the turned-over tea mug pouring a cascade of musical notes down his shoulder. A small flower tries to work its way toward his chest, and a larger flower reaches backward to where Dan can’t easily see. He gasps slowly and quietly, taken aback by how the art looks when it’s actually embracing his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It looks perfect,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay cool. I wasn’t sure about the lily, if you wanted it higher or anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, this is exactly what I envisioned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Phil says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does it again with the next part, going further down his arm. It’s a short set of piano keys, the black ones of which melt into a puddle of ink. A few more flowers explode out of the puddle, like cattails growing on the edge of a dark pond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil does the top section last. The book and a couple of lines of text from it, spreading outward and leading towards the objects already stenciled onto Dan’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling of Phil’s gloved fingertips massaging the stencil fluid onto him is far more of a turn on than it should be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It needs a few minutes to dry, so you still have time to change your mind. Back out if you’re afraid.” He smirks and then adds a cartoonish, evil laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan laughs and shakes his head. “You can’t scare me, Lester. I’m committed now. This is happening. Whether my parents approve or not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry,” Phil jokes, “can’t let you get this without a signed permission slip.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up,” Dan says playfully. He slowly feels himself relax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got time to chat, so what’s your tattoo all about?” Phil asks. “If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um. I recently sent my publisher the final edit of my first novel, so. Celebrating that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a writer?” Phil asks, looking impressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess I am now,” Dan says with a light disbelieving chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Phil says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Dan replies. “The book obviously stands for, y’know, the book. The stuff I have falling out of it are important themes and symbols that are in it. It’s all going from my brain down my arm toward the hand that wrote the first draft of a lot of scenes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re left-handed then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Explains why you’re a creative type.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, that’s actually not true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The whole left-brain, right-brain dominance thing. Not true. All based on misunderstood science. Anyone can be creative, anyone can be logical.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Phil says, eyebrows raised as though he genuinely finds this fact interesting. “Well that explains how I’m so creative!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He then blows lightly on Dan’s arm, where the tattoo stencil is. The sudden tickle of cool air makes Dan gasp lightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Phil says. “Impatient to get started.” He fans Dan’s arm with his hand for a second, and then grabs a small tub of vaseline. He puts a tiny bit on his fingertip and rubs at the edge of one line. It smudges slightly. Phil pouts adorably. “Still needs another minute,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan notices the edge of a single tattoo on Phil’s upper arm, peeking out from beneath his t-shirt sleeve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So how many tattoos do you have?” Dan asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I just have the two.” Phil lifts up his sleeve to show Dan a pixel-style Chocobo, and a doodle of a rainbow-colored alien head with the word “homosexualien” in handwritten-looking letters above it. They’re both very small, but very bright and friendly. They’re not at all what you’d expect of a tattoo artist, in quantity nor size nor style.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, excellent Final Fantasy reference there. And I also appreciate a good gay alien.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well good, because I am a gay alien!” Phil says with a childlike grin. “Well, gay for sure. Possible alien.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trying not to be too obvious about his excitement that Cute Tattoo Artist Phil is gay, Dan chortles. This guy is something else. “So why just those two?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honestly? I just haven’t found any others I want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re picky about your tattoos and you chose those?” Dan asks, non-judgementally and genuinely endeared by this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” Phil says confidently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does the vaseline test again and the stencil doesn’t smudge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Phil says, sitting up straight and taking the tattoo gun in his hand. “Ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not. “You bet. Let’s do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil dips the needle into some black ink and the motor starts whirring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the needle first makes contact, Dan barely winces. But he does blink. It’s new. His ear piercings definitely hurt more when he got those. In fact, going to the dental hygienist hurts more than this. It doesn’t feel like a million tiny punctures, the way he expected. It feels more like one long scratch. Phil moves across his skin like he’s drawing on paper, but much more slowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doing good so far?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dan says, watching him work. Phil is leaned in close, getting to know Dan’s skin very intimately. Dan can feel his breath again, warm this time, mingling with the gentle but noticeable pain of the tattoo gun invading his skin with black ink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that’s when it begins. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>tickle.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not on his arm, no, but between his legs. He can feel his balls tighten more and more the longer Phil works. He forces his breath to stay steady, but he’s pretty sure Phil can hear his heart pounding. He worries that Phil might even be able to see his neck pulsate as the blood in his system rushes away from his brain and right to his dick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He breathes deeply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” Dan replies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tickle, deep within his groin, radiates up towards his stomach gradually. It doesn’t intensify as Phil works, but it certainly increases its presence. It reaches, like long fingers, up into Dan’s torso, threatening to come out his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Make conversation, you dingus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you like Final Fantasy then?” Dan asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes. I mean, I started with 7 like most people our age, but I ended up playing the Super Nintendo ones later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like when they got re-released?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil smirks. “No, actually, I was too impatient. Played them on an emulator on my PC. Even played fan translations of 3 and 5.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn, proper nerd cred.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They share a giggle. Dan doesn’t know how to continue the conversation, not knowing much about game emulation. Luckily, Phil keeps talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I liked those games so much. I made one of my own actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dan asks, genuinely impressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I used RPG Maker which was, like, game dev on baby mode to be honest. I was only fourteen, so that’s my excuse. But it did have a fun story! And a threesome with an angel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan laughs. “What sort of fourteen-year-old were you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A horny one, apparently.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conversation does very little to distract Dan from how hard his dick is because Phil is as funny and spirited as he is nerdy and hot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just fucking great.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The delicious pain of Phil’s needle penetrating Dan should be uncomfortable, he knows it, but the intense sting in combination with Phil’s kind, smiling eyes has his entire mind and body ensnared, bewitched, mesmerized, and--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The buzzing of the tattoo gun silences. Phil stops. “Alright, we’ve got this bit done,” he says. He wipes some excess ink away, and Dan looks down. It’s looking pretty incredible so far.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the tickle is gone -- suddenly the feeling has retreated, like a small animal that’s been noticed by a predator.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been breathing kind of heavily,” Phil says, “so I figure now’s a good time for a break.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, probably,” Dan says, chuckling nervously. He finds himself feeling a warm affection for Phil, who is apparently as yet oblivious to Dan’s arousal but clearly cares about Dan’s well-being at the very least. He looks at a clock on the wall and realizes Phil’s been working for nearly an hour. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How the fuck…? Time flies when you’re turned on, I guess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil grabs a water bottle from a nearby mini-fridge and hands it to Dan with a friendly smile that perhaps has a bit of mischief behind it…? Or perhaps Dan is seeing things. Wishful thinking. He cracks open the bottle and takes a swig.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil does more preparatory stuff on that once-intimidating metal tray which now somehow gives Dan a slight pleasant tingle in the pit of his stomach. Phil’s hands are so capable, and that tattoo gun -- a nerve-wracking sight earlier -- is now something he associates with that tickle. That feeling which, Dan must now fully admit to himself, means he apparently has a pain kink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a fantastic time to learn that about myself,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart rate returns to normal as he sips on his water, and he resolves to think the unsexiest things he can while Phil works. He can always fantasize and have a wank later on, after all. And he fully intends to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil looks at him with something like concern, and something like fondness, but doesn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan gives Phil a nod, twists the cap back onto the water bottle, and hands it to Phil who puts it on a nearby ledge for easy access later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Phil says, positioning himself over the tattoo area once again. “Let’s get this tattoo on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan can’t help but laugh a little at the playful, mock-cool tone Phil uses. At least Dan hopes it’s mock-cool. If that’s Phil’s genuine attempt at sounding cool, it does not work and it’s kind of sad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It does make him endearing, though, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh holy fucking shit there’s the tickle again and it’s so much stronger now what the fucking fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay,” Phil says calmly, and Dan is pretty sure Phil is responding to how Dan’s entire body has tensed up. Dan takes a few breaths.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Phil begins to work on thinner skin higher up Dan’s arm and across his shoulder, the tickle intensifies. The root starting point of the tickle, that part of himself between his legs that he wishes </span>
  <em>
    <span>so badly</span>
  </em>
  <span> he could touch right now, feels like it’s on freezing cold fire after only a few minutes, and the fingers of the tickle once again have Dan’s entire torso in their grasp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what’s your book about?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um. A concert pianist dealing with love and loss and stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘And stuff’?” Phil asks, one eyebrow raised curiously. Dan wants to pin him to the floor and have his way with him so badly it’s almost funny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And being gay,” Dan clarifies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil smiles. “Sounds like it’d be right up my alley. So why did you make him a concert pianist?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Boy that word really sounds like ‘penis’ when Phil says it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I always wanted to play piano. Took lessons when I was younger. I dabble now, but I’m pretty shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Big hands like those,” Phil says with an apparent flirtatious edge, “I imagine you’ve got some natural talent for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan smirks. “Well, not according to my piano teacher. She said I had fat fingers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like that’s a bad thing,” Phil says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay yeah he’s definitely flirting now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Either way, I think your fingers are really nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tattoo gun fires pure sexual delight straight into Dan’s bloodstream. Dan tries to keep his eye on one of the ceiling tiles to avoid looking Phil directly in the eyes for another moment. Of course, his mind’s eye will see whatever it wants and it has decided to think about Phil. Dan knows his breathing has definitely sped up again now that the conversation has petered out. He tries to imagine possible future conversation, but his mind conjures up a soundtrack of unintelligible moaning instead of words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tattoo gun hits a particularly sensitive bit of skin. Dan tries to breathe through his nose and push away the sweet, buzzing pain to no avail. Instead his brain just fuses the incredible feeling in his dick with the imagined moaning into one pornographic mess.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck,” he mutters to himself, entirely by accident. His eyes roll back a bit and his eyelids flutter closed. “Mm…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil turns the gun off. The tickle backs off again, and Dan can breathe normally again, but now there’s this residual tingling feeling left in his groin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Need another break?” Phil asks, rather stiffly, as though he’s finally starting to understand what’s happening here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I uh… I think so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hands Dan the water again. “Be right back,” he says. He walks off, through the curtain towards the waiting room. Dan takes the opportunity to wriggle a bit on the chair, trying to get the seam of his jeans as far away from his balls as possible. It doesn’t end up helping, but it’s worth the shot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil comes back with two individually-wrapped cookies, and holds them up. “Wasn’t sure which flavor you’d like,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan smiles and taps the oatmeal chocolate chip one. Phil hands it to him and puts the other one up on that ledge from before, clearly his ‘temporary random stuff ledge.’ Dan digs into his snack with a bit more fervor than is probably attractive, but he’s trying very hard to fight the urge to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about sex and attractiveness at the moment so he doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil once again looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. Almost like he wants to make conversation, but he can see that Dan’s mouth is busy with other things. Phil changes his gloves. Dan isn’t sure he needs to do that. Perhaps he’s just trying to keep himself busy. Dan isn’t sure he likes how quiet Phil is. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, I know,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s awkward now, isn’t it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, the cookie is gone, and Dan has polished off the water. He hands the trash to Phil, who throws it away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil takes a deep breath and claps once. “All set?” he asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan looks Phil in his gorgeous blue eyes and nods, feeling considerably better. He notices he’s far less lightheaded. That residual cold burn between his legs, though… that’s still there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, of course, when the tattoo gun starts buzzing again, the tickle is back in full force before the needle even touches Dan’s skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s absolutely screwed. There is no way he can hide that he’s turned on anymore. The tickle begins to take over his whole body. Phil works in silence now, too, tattooing the area around Dan’s collarbone. The pain increases in intensity, and Dan tightens his grip on the wadded-up t-shirt in his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now Phil is inching ever closer to the base of Dan’s neck. He’s simultaneously scared to death of how much that’ll hurt and excited to feel it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmh…” Dan grunts, quietly. Phil gives him a look, as though checking to see if he’s alright. He must be satisfied with what he sees, though, because he doesn’t stop working.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes longer. Or maybe an hour, who knows. The tickle can’t be described as a tickle anymore, it’s like the humming electricity in power lines, like pain if it were made out of sugar. Dan fights the urge to touch himself under the balled-up shirt in his right hand. He wrenches his eyes shut and his mouth gapes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gun quiets again. “You alright?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, actually, totally good, absolutely fine </span>
  <em>
    <span>please don’t stop working</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil chuckles. If he really does know what’s going on here, he isn’t letting on. “You’re the boss,” he says, like a true professional.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan hears that buzzing again and Phil is officially at the base of his neck. He’s working on the book now. Dan can feel it. He expected this part to be absolutely miserable when Phil mentioned it two very short hours ago. But it isn’t miserable at all.</span>
</p><p><span><br/></span><span>It hurts, yes. But it hurts </span><em><span>good.</span></em> <em><span>So</span></em><span> good. The pain of the needle combined with Phil’s breath gently moving across his neck and shoulder… there’s nothing better than this. His beautifully wounded skin sends a signal all throughout his body, down through his torso, past the butterflies in his stomach, and into his legs and toes and arms and wrists and fingertips and finally to whatever magical place behind his taint where the tickle first began to grow. There’s a hot blue fire there now, and the pain is like freezing cold gasoline, trying to put the fire out but instead Dan feels the start of an explosion.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Dan cries, in a sound that could easily be mistaken as an “ouch” equivalent but which Dan knows is definitely not that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil keeps going. Dan tries not to whimper. He’s definitely going to ruin his pants if Phil doesn’t finish that book quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And… there’s that!” Phil says, pulling the tattoo gun away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” Dan moans. It’s unmistakably sexual this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gun turns off and Phil looks at Dan with darkened eyes. Dan wriggles in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shit. Oh fuck. Stop looking at me or this is going to get worlds more embarrassing than it already is.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… the outline’s done, just needs… erm.” Phil clears his throat. “Just needs shading now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dan says weakly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you, um… do you need to use the toilet?” Phil asks very kindly. “You seem like… you need privacy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes please that’d be great,” Dan mutters quietly. He gulps. He knows his face is flushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil scoots back to give Dan the space to get up. Dan quickly stands, letting his shirt fall to the floor, and does something like a pre-emptive walk of shame across the room to the toilet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once inside, he takes a few deep breaths to try in vain to calm himself down. He can see his shirtless form in the mirror, and the tattoo looks absolutely incredible so far. Phil has permanently marked him with this work of art, and his cock twitches at the thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He realizes he needs to pee after all the water he had earlier, and wonders if that had anything to do with how hard he’s gotten. He’s heard some people are into that feeling, so he figures he might as well be one of them as long as he’s apparently discovering new kinks today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As difficult as it is to do, he relieves himself in the hopes that it calms down his angrily stiff cock, but it does nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he whispers frustratedly to himself. He’s gonna do this. He’s actually going to have a wank in the fucking toilet stall here, isn’t he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steps into the stall and closes the door behind him. Desperate, he quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them and his pants down enough to grab his cock. At the slightest touch, he moans more loudly than he probably should considering where he is. He cuts his own vocalizations off with a bite of his lower lip. Precum leaks out of his slit and he smears it over his shaft. He still needs more lubrication though, so he licks the cum off his palm and uses the saliva to aid him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He decides to start stroking slowly, handling his very sensitive cock gently at first to get it acclimated to the touch. He closes his eyes and imagines Phil pinning him to one of those chairs and grinding up against him. It’s not a graphic fantasy, but it’s more than enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reaches that critical moment, that point of no return, and his quick panting slowly morphs into involuntary moans, and it’s at that very second someone walks into the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing Phil’s voice pushes him over the edge and he keens, coming hard and letting the toilet catch his mess (for the most part). He covers his mouth with his free hand and tries not to be too loud as he rides out the orgasm. This is in every way the most embarrassing thing he’s ever experienced, and he knows he will never be able to forget it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil chuckles, his voice low and deep. “I was going to offer vaseline but it sounds like you have, um… a handle on things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s breathing is still rapid. He’s already been thoroughly humiliated at this point so he’s making no further attempts to be quiet; his exhales are just high-pitched moans. “Uh-huh,” he says, incapable of any more complex syllables. It’s mostly true, he did get off after all… but it didn’t exactly provide complete relief. It’s back down to a tickle. He’s easily got another go in him. The stinging ache of the unfinished art Phil left on him is almost definitely a factor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need anything?” Phil says. Dan thinks Phil should be flustered or nervous or something but he doesn’t sound like he is. He sounds confident and in control and</span>
  <em>
    <span> it is really not helping.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I uh… I don’t… um…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe catch your breath first. The rest of the shop is going to hear you moaning if you keep trying to speak.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s cock twitches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How embarrassing that would be,” Phil continues.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan keeps his lips tightly shut, but he moans. He’s excited by the idea of people hearing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck?</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just how kinky </span>
  </em>
  <span>am</span>
  <em>
    <span> I?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan can breathe again, so he attempts to speak. “I um… I need another… another minute. Or another go. Or whatever. I’m not really good yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well… I mean, I’ve got this vaseline here already,” Phil says slowly, and the words are like honey dripping down Dan’s throat into his belly and straight onto the fiery tickle behind his balls. “I’ve got nothing to do until you’re ready for me to start shading.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cock still out, Dan opens the toilet stall door cautiously. He looks shyly at Phil with half-lidded eyes. “What’d you have in mind?” he says in a sort of sex-drunk mumble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil gives Dan’s half-naked body a salacious look and smirks. “Well... I figure it’s a lot easier to get off if someone who knows what they’re doing is… pressing the right buttons.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan gives an amused smirk. “I suppose,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil sets the vaseline on the counter and pulls a single nitrile glove out of his pocket. He puts it on and snaps it at the wrist again. Dan gulps. This should remind him of going to the doctor in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> way, and yet he finds himself desperate for Phil to take command of Dan’s… situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to touch you, Dan?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil turns around and locks the door now that he knows Dan is game for this. He approaches Dan rapidly and, with his one ungloved hand, grabs his hair hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt or be scary. “You’re into pain, I take it?” Phil says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dan whispers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say ‘red light’ if I go too far with it, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fact that Phil is even saying this gets Dan excited. He figured Phil was just going to finger him and be done with it, but apparently he plans on making this interesting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil pulls Dan’s hair in order to lead him to the counter, shoving him against it so he’s bent forward over the sink. Dan grunts at the impact, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t dislike the feeling of it. They’re both facing the mirror and can see Phil’s handiwork. The reminder that, in this small way, Phil is a part of Dan forever causes Phil’s dick to harden noticeably. He grinds up against Dan’s bare ass, then leans forward so his body is covering Dan’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling of being overpowered and protected both at once, and by an artist no less, is almost more than Dan can stand. He’s never been more turned on in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Relax,” Phil hisses in his ear. “And don’t move.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan does as he’s told while Phil opens up the vaseline and covers all four gloved fingers with it. Dan’s eyes widen. He wonders what exactly he’s in for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil smacks one ass cheek hard, and Dan squeals, biting his lip. Unsatisfied, Phil smacks the other ass cheek twice as hard. This time, Dan gasps before moaning a loud “aah!” and blushing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil covers Dan’s mouth. “Ssh,” he whispers. “They’ll hear you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And on those words, he pushes one finger slowly into Dan’s needy asshole. Dan’s mouth hangs open behind Phil’s hand, but he doesn’t dare make a sound. Once he’s finally relaxed around one finger, he feels the second one push through. He squeals ever so slightly. Phil kisses a spot on Dan’s upper back, right outside the boundaries of the tattoo, and pulls his fingers out just a little. He pushes them back in, continuing to kiss along Dan’s spine, and Dan’s ass takes them easily. He pulls out slightly one more time before shoving them in hard. Dan gasps again and he tries with everything he has not to scream out in pleasure. Phil does it again, pushing harder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmh!” Dan moans so loudly that Phil has to press his hand harder against Dan’s face and squeeze a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut. Up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan whimpers as Phil proceeds to finger fuck his ass. Dan loves how much it hurts, the burn, the sting, the likelihood of being unable to sit down later. Soon, though, the stinging stops and so does his whining.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think you can take one more?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nods. “Mm-hmm,” is all he can say for Phil’s tight grip on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil slides one more finger in. The stretch is a heavenly sort of pain, and Dan’s eyes roll back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like that?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan can’t even articulate an “mm-hmm” at this point, so he just moans and lets his eyes flutter shut. Phil has seen this before today, so he knows he’s doing well. He smirks to himself and fingers Dan hard, making sure to angle himself just right…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan suddenly feels the world shift around him. Colors brighten, edges get sharper as though someone’s over-photoshopped everything. He lets out a very quick scream, his eyes open and he pushes one hand up onto the mirror. Phil stops moving his fingers and uncovers Dan’s mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still green light?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god yes please don’t stop moving don’t stop what are you doing keep going </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck!!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil obeys readily and continues pushing his fingers into Dan, angling himself so he’s pushing onto Dan’s prostate the entire time. Dan’s trying very hard to stay quiet but he’s utterly failing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Phil gets to thinking… he really hopes the rest of the shop has indeed gone home for the night. Nikki should be the last one, and she’s supposed to have left fifteen minutes ago, but he admittedly didn’t check before coming into the toilet to find Dan. He didn’t exactly know what a fun, loud adventure he’d be having in here. Dan seems like he’s really into the possibility of humiliation, though, so Phil is just sort of going with it. He wouldn’t be the first person to fuck someone in the bathroom here, but last time it was a couple who’d come in to get matching tattoos after getting engaged. Ultimately, they broke up a few weeks later and both had their tattoos covered. He hopes fucking in this toilet wasn’t some sort of harbinger of doom, because he’s kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> into this Dan guy and he’d love to satisfy this pain kink of his many times in the future.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More,” Dan whines. “One more finger please!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan nods. “Uh-huh,” he says breathlessly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil slows down enough to add the fourth finger. Dan’s breathing speeds up while he adjusts to the pain. Phil pulls his fingers out slightly, then pushes back in, keeping it slow. He and Dan make eye contact in the mirror while Phil’s knuckles gradually push their way into Dan’s ass, just a bit further in with each thrust. They breach, and Dan feels the burn of his asshole trying to accommodate. It feels incredible, but he’s getting close again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “Fuck me,” he exhales.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Phil says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, fuck, Phil, please, I need you to fuck me, I’m so close but I can’t… I need…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a condom in my jeans pocket,” Dan adds after licking his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil nods. “Don’t move,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s jeans have fallen down around his ankles at this point. Phil crouches down to search the pockets, and can’t resist smacking Dan’s ass hard and kissing the resulting red handprint. Dan hisses at the impact, then sighs at the feeling of Phil’s lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil stands back up and places the condom on the counter. He unbuttons his jeans, and then undoes the zipper just slowly enough to make Dan squirm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said don’t move,” Phil reminds him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once his pants are down, and Phil’s cock is out but sadly obscured in the reflection, Dan resists the urge to turn around and look to see what he’s in for. Phil takes the condom out of its wrapper and rolls it onto himself. Dan is thoroughly lubed up with the vaseline, so Phil aligns himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a pussy, Phil,” Dan growls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil seems to rightly take that as his cue to return to the rough, domineering sexual persona he’s playing tonight, and shoves into Dan’s thoroughly prepared ass as hard as he can stand to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan cries out. Phil is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> small. He likes the pain, in fact he loves it, but he’s very glad he’s ostensibly been prepped for this. Phil pushes in again. The rounded edge of the counter presses into Dan’s lower stomach and it’s starting to ache. Phil continues thrusting deep into him, digging his fingers into Dan’s hips and leaning forward over his body as though he won’t be satisfied until they occupy the same space. It’s terribly intimate for an act so rough, probably because Dan knows he can stop it at any time. Phil may be playing the dominant one here, but he isn’t. Dan is, and he knows it. And that realization that this pain is fully under Dan’s control, and that he’s getting what he wants from a really nice guy, is what does the trick. His cock twitches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god I’m gonna come,” he whines, pushing both hands up against the mirror now and looking at Phil’s reflection behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This encourages Phil to speed up, as though he’s trying to catch up and get himself off at the same time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan’s repeated moans crescendo to a near-scream, and suddenly he’s coming untouched. Phil makes no attempt to muffle those ecstatic cries. He merely holds eye contact with Dan in the mirror, enjoying the wordless communication between them. He continues fucking Dan hard, panting from both the intense pleasure and near-exhaustion. Dan is almost ready to collapse from the power of his orgasm. His hands slip down from the mirror and lay limp over the tap in front of him. The metal digs into his wrists a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil almost looks frustrated now, biting his lower lip. But he isn’t letting up. His nails are this close to drawing blood from Dan’s hips, and Dan feels delightfully like a sex doll being used.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come for me?” Dan pleads, his voice weak and wrecked. He can feel his ass clench around Phil’s constantly moving cock. “I wanna feel you… oh my god I need to feel it so bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, fuck, Dan…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, keep talking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, your cock is so fucking huge, I wanna feel you come inside me please!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You feel so good,” Phil exhales. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck yes, Phil, don’t stop fucking me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, fuck, god, fuck fuck fuck fuck…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god I’m gonna come again,” Dan whines, and he’s not lying. The dirty talk has kept his mind on the sex long after he’d normally shift his attentions elsewhere. The pain of the hard metal tap against his wrist bones, Phil’s nails trying to slice into him, and the hard pressure of the counter have all coalesced into a perfect storm of orgasmic agony. Phil hits his g-spot hard and fast over and over and over and Dan reaches down to stroke himself furiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil lets go of one hip and grabs Dan’s hair, hard enough to really hurt this time. And that’s all it takes for Dan to be spilling onto the floor again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, fuck yes!” he cries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil’s thrusts lose their rhythm then, and he shoves his hips hard up against Dan’s. His eyes screw shut, his mouth hangs open noiselessly, and he’s coming deep inside Dan’s ass. His orgasm feels almost endless, so much tension has been building for so long. And this is the hottest sex he’s had in a very, very long time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He falls forward onto Dan’s back. Dan, meanwhile, is draped over the sink like drying laundry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think… I may need a second appointment… for the shading,” Dan struggles to say between panting breaths.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil laughs lazily. “Yeah, probably.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They catch their breath and put their clothes back on. Phil sends Dan back to the chair, saying he’ll mop up this mess real quick. He makes Dan promise to eat that second cookie while he waits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he does. Not that it stops the room from spinning. Dan still feels like he’s been carried up into a whirlwind where everything is bright and exciting and scary, and he desperately wants to keep enjoying it, but he’s far too exhausted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s very close to falling asleep in the chair when Phil finally comes back, looking for all the world like nothing ever happened. He’s carrying a small dish of what appears to be soapy water in one hand, and a sponge and hand towel in the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles at Dan kindly, apparently unsure of what to say. He uses the small sponge to wash the area around Dan’s tattoo, and Dan wishes the act made him feel at ease. But Phil’s silence leaves him anxious. Phil dabs Dan’s shoulder and arm dry with the incredibly soft hand towel, and once he’s done and putting the supplies down, Dan misses the feeling of Phil’s gentle touch on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” he finally says, getting out some kind of ointment and gauze bandages. “Normally I’d ask you for your number, but I already have it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan raises his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil applies the ointment to the tattooed area, then covers it with the gauze. “Not really sure what the etiquette is here,” he says. He chuckles nervously and visibly blushes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dan outright laughs at the very concept of Phil blushing after what he just did to him in the toilet. “Well,” he says, “I guess… you have permission to contact me for non-professional reasons.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like dinner?” Phil says, tearing first aid tape with his teeth to affix the bandage on Dan’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Like dinner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Phil says with a smile. He finishes flattening the tape against Dan’s upper chest. He points at the bandage. “Don’t take that off for at least a few hours. Probably best to just sleep with it on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dan nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil hands him a bottle of lotion with tattoo art on the label. “Put this on it every few hours, or whenever it’s bothering you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Dan says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stare at each other for a few minutes. Dan’s eyes dart between Phil’s left and right one, like they can’t decide which one is prettier. The act grounds Dan somewhat, and as the adrenaline of their encounter wears off, the world comes into focus again. And all colors return to their normal, everyday, duller hues… except Phil’s eyes. They stay as bright as they were in the bathroom mirror. It occurs to Dan that Phil is an actual person, not a made-up fantasy he dreamed up. This wasn’t some weird sexual dream -- it actually happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil seems to have the same thought, because eventually, they both laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Phil says hesitantly. “So… we did that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We did do that,” Dan says, still giggling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Phil says, an indelible smirk plastered to his face. “Get your shirt back on, and let’s make your next appointment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>@americanphancakes on tumblr!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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